


A women with many traits

by louciawantsroses



Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, James Delaney - Freeform, Tom Hardy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louciawantsroses/pseuds/louciawantsroses
Summary: You can always trust James Delaney to spot a talent when he sees one. Although seeking to buy, steal or borrow a ship, James encounters a rather outlandish girl arriving at the London docks and decides to take her under his wings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Being utterly and completely hooked on the Taboo series on BBC1 starring the wonderful Tom Hardy, I quickly became inspired to write my own little take on it within the scope of a fanfic.  
> So thank you to everybody who took an interest and time to read it and wants to continue reading it as the storyline unfolds. Hopefully it will attract somebody who will discover James's and Rosie's adventures with me as I go along writing it. I'm always grateful for feedback so please let me know what you think.

Chapter I: Pickpocket

James sat ashore clinging onto a big green bottle of brandy whilst staring out on to the pitch black, dirty sea, watching and waiting for incoming ships. Just as the sun rose fully to the sky an imposing merchant ship anchored, not only supplying new goods to traders and marketeers who were eagerly awaiting them outside the docks but also washing ashore a rather peculiar looking girl, who sneaked out of the cargo hatch.

Once on steady ground she drew the attention of the standarounds on her immediately with her unusual demeanor. Even James, who generally never cared about other peoples business, picked up on her as she was staggering off board like a drunk sailor, very nearly tipping over as her shabby boots, which obviously once belonged to a man, kept getting entangled in the ripped, red laces of her underskirt, which peeked out from under her well worn, velvety, emerald green dress. The way she tried to shield her squinted eyes from the brightness of the morning sun with her hands, indicated that she hadn't been exposed to natural daylight for quite some time, as did the paleness of her skin when you overlooked the dust and dirt she was covered in.

She inhaled the crisp morning air, closing her eyes appreciatively as it filled her lungs. But with exhaling a cough escaped her throat as if she had taken a deep drag from a cigar. Despite her young age she really did look worse for wear and that says something around this town in comparison to the street whores and the nutters.

A women grabbed her husbands arm and darted a degrading look towards her as she drew closer to them in her seemingly drunken state.

„Good morning love!" she greeted affectionately with her lips curling into a warmly smile. „Sir!" she added curtsying clumsily like a new born stork resulting the women to step back appalled at the gesture. At the same minute the girl tumbled to the side right into the arms of the husband, who immediately jerked her into a steady position again.

„Sorry!"she apologized, pretending to raise an imaginary hat to her saviour.

Hastily the wife dragged her man by his arm to get out of her sight.

Slowly James approached the girl from behind. „I saw what you did there." her growled into her brittle looking golden brown locks that were covering her ear.

She took a swift turn to face the man whispering to her. Her vibrant green eyes softened as they met with James's.

„Oh well, I only tripped. Not to worry!" she chuckled distractingly. „Not to worry."

Just as she was about to leave he grabbed her hand that she was holding in a tight clutch and pulled her entire body towards him with one rapid motion.

„Oh yeah and whats this hm?" he murmured in a husky voice as he forced her hand open with his fingers, revealing a shiny golden pocket watch.

She glared at him pulling her hand away from him.

„You're hurting me." she pouted, rubbing the reddened area on her wrist he had gripped so tightly.

„You were good." he acknowledged.

„Oh I'm a women of many traits." she said coyly, latching onto him and pressing her bosom against his chest. Her hands wandered down the seams of his trousers, almost unnoticeably picking a coin from out of his pocket. Suddenly he pushed her back, jerking the coin from her hand.

„I'm sure of it but first you need a wash!" he replied unimpressed.

She shrugged.

He examined her carefully from tip to toe, brushing his bearded chin in a thinking gesture.

„You must improve your skills, you know…"he suggested „mainly by…" he paused, then formed a globe with his hands „scaling down.".

„What? Are you calling me a pig?" she exclaimed indignantly.

„No, no. It's just the whole getup." he whispered, attempting to tone her down also.

„You're attracting way too much attention for a pickpocket. The wrong kind of attention, if you know what I mean."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring at him. „What, you don't like my dress? Or my boots?" she asked pulling up her skirts and revealing the dark leather footwear that's too big for her legs.

„Oh no, they're vile" he replied scrunching up his nose.

„Well so are you!"

„Trust me love, I've been called worse." he once again grunted into her hair.

He lightly placed his fingertips on her lower back, then pressing them onto her bones, signalizing her to get a move on. „C'mon I have a use for you!"


	2. Playing with fire

Chapter II: Playing with fire

They walked side by side in silence for a while. The girl ever so often glancing up in suspense-packed apprehension at the man abducting her, which didn't escape his notice.

„You are quite the adventuress. Are you not scared?"

„What me? Nah, why should I be?"

He stopped his pace, leaned down towards her and looked deep into her eyes, penetrating them with menace glaring out of his own.

„I have done some terrible things." he murmured mystifyingly.

„So have I." she responded in the same manner, which caused James to smirk for the first time.

They trotted on.

„So what's your name?"

„James."

„James what?" she asked.

„Delaney."

„Mr. James Delaney." she repeated empathizing the ‚Y'.

„I'm Rosie, Rosie Bell."

He ignored her introduction.

„And what's it you want to use me for then?"

Again she was ignored.

„Where are we going?"

„Listen, you're asking too many questions." he hissed in her direction, which successfully shut her up.

She didn't really care that much anyhow. All she wanted was a dry place to stay at and her belly filled with warm, delicious food. She had spent four long months on board of that cargo vessel in a hideout in the damp and darkness of the forehold heading from one port to the next, never staying too long at a time as for her destination had been London all along.

They stopped in front of grand townhouse with a handsome veneer, which looked unoccupied at first glance, as the windows were boarded up to shut out any views into the inside.

James lead her through the squeaking front door and into a gloomy hallway.

„Brace!" he shouted from the top of his lungs.

An elderly fella poked his head round a door, which seemed to lead into the lounge.

„You've been staying in a birds nest." he remarked with thick accent looking from Rosie to James and back.

„Fix up some breakfast." James demanded. Hesitantly Brace obeyed, shaking his head at the sight of the juvenile newcomer accompanying James.

They stepped into the drawing room only to be greeted by a very histrionic women asking: „Where have you been?" in a high pitched voice.

„None of your business." he answered sliding down on the sofa with his legs widely spread apart, machismo oozing out from every cell of this body.

At this point the women scowled at Rosie.

„Not only have you been gone all night, but you're also bringing wenches around to our house."she spat.

„My house, Miss Bow."

„Missus Delaney!" she pointed out, stemming her hands on her hips.

„Miss Bell, Miss Lorna Bow."James introduced them to one another, never once making an effort to move.

„She your wife?" Rosie asked.

„Oh fuck no." James exclaimed, slightly laughing at that ridiculous notion, which made Lorna's heart sink for a moment.

„Go get into the kitchen and fetch yourself something to eat and tell Bruce to fix up a room for you." James demanded.

As Rosie left Lorna and James to themselves, Lorna again started up a conversation, this time in a much lowered voice.

„I can't believe you're doing this. She looks atrocious."

„I know."he replied displaying his disinterest visibly by focusing on kicking his boots off.

„What are you contemplating?"

„None of your business."

„James."

„I have a task for you." he announced, straightening his posture.

„Turn her into a lady, teach her some etiquette, how to eat, drink, dress, act like a lady."he proposed to her.

„Have you lost your mind? That's preposterous. She is dizzy!" unwilling to meet his request she began to stomp into the direction of the door.

James however jumped up from the sofa and grasped her by the arm. He forced her to face him and pointed a threatening finger directly into her face.

He spoke to her in the most sinister way: „As long as you're living under this roof, which won't be for too long, as you know, you will make yourself useful to me…"

Lorna tried to escape from his firm grip, which only entailed him to tighten it even firmer around her upper arm, surely leaving a bruise in that spot. His furious eyes widened with wrath as he continued:

„You will have turned that girl into a lady before I come back. You have three days."

By now he had loosened his grip. Lorna took the opportunity and left the room.

„Three days!" he yelled after her, dropping back down on the sofa and leaning his head back into his neck.

„She's an actress, how hard can it be?" he sputtered to himself.

At nightfall Brace had put on a fire in one of the spare bedrooms, that once belonged to James's half sister Zilpha and showed it to Rosie. It was astonishingly brightly furnished, at least compared to the rest of the house which was equipped with attired carpets, and battered, old furniture. Even the dusty windows were draped with murky curtains. But Rosie didn't care because for the first time in what seemed like an eternity she would sleep in an actual bed. Oh how she had longed to put her head down on a proper pillow! She stepped out of her worn-out boots, slid out of the disused rags she had kept on for months and warmed her bare skin by the fire before she climbed into the squeaking bed. She pulled the linen over her shoulders, tucked herself in and rejoiced over the prospect of an undisturbed sleep.

It was in the middle of the night when Rosie awoke to a rumbling sound coming from across the hallway. Her curiosity never failing her, she covered her naked body in the bedlinen and ever so carefully opened the door into the dark hallway. Only the cloudy moon provided a bit of light by shining through a thin gap between two drawn curtains as she tiptoed across the aged floorboards into the direction of the room from where the noise was coming.

The door was left ajar. Almost silently she pushed it open a wee bit more to have a peek inside. A fully exposed James crouched in front of a fire place, his back facing her. Very strange black marks, she had never ever seen before in her life, marks which looked like warpaint, graced his back, arms and legs. He muttered to the flames in uncomprehending mumbles and blew ash into them. Mesmerized but also slightly frightened he watched him proceed, not noticing that she had opened the door further, making a dreadful noise.

James swiftly turned around. His savage stare met up with her terrified glance.

„What are you doing?" she half-whispered with a throaty voice. His expression was wild as the fire danced in his radiant eyes. Ashamed she had been caught and bewildered at the same time by the man who had taken her, a stranger, into his home, she clung to the bedlinen around her as if it was a shield to protect her.

He registered the girls distraught expression and spoke to her in a very low, almost affectionate tone.

„Go back to bed. I am not a fit man to be around."

Rosie hesitated, still daunted and paralyzed from what had just taken place.

„Go back to bed." he repeated softly. She did as she was told with no objections and that was the last she saw of him for the next three days.


	3. The makeover

Chapter III: The makeover

The next morning James stumbled into the kitchen seemingly hungover and looking sordid with his hair sticking out in all directions.

Brace and Lorna, who sat opposite each other at the breakfast table exchanged knowing glances.

„Where's the girl?" James asked, sounding hoarsely.

„She's still in bed, I'd suspect." Brace answered. „Have some eggs and tea." he offered him along with his chair he patted on.

„I have some business to attend." he replied.

Without ever revealing his whereabouts he rushed out of the house, keeping them in suspense as to when he would return.

When Rosie awoke from a troubled sleep, she slid on her dress and descended the stairs into the kitchen where Brace prepared potatoes and meat for tea.

„So she has risen. Good afternoon Miss Bell." Brace greeted her making sure she would detect the irony in his tone.

„Morning." she yawned and lazily let herself drop down on one of the chairs. She poured herself a cup of cold tea and sipped as she watched Brace peel the potatoes.

Still confused over last nights events she pondered whether or not to ask Brace about it. Maybe she would, but she had to be sneaky.

„How long have you known Mr. Delaney for?" she asked, pretending to be random by not facing him but instead supporting her titled head with her arm and running her index finger along the edge of the tea cup.

„Oh since he was a wee boy." he replied.

„Hm"

„What about his mother and father?"

„They're gone." he said rubbing the dirt off of a Potato.

„Gone as in dead?"

„Yes."

„Oh"

She again broke the silence when Brace began chopping some meat.

„Has there ever gone something on? Wicked things….like witchcraft?"

Surprised but at the same time knowing what she was on about he put the chopper down and grabbed the chair next to her. He sat front facing her leaning in to whisper.

„Now whatever you've seen, we don't speak about. There is nothing for you to worry about dearie." he reassured her.

„Last night…" he interrupted her motioning for her to keep her voice down, suspiciously looking around to make sure they were not overheard.

„We don't speak about it!" he repeated.

„But is he a good man or a bad man?" she whispered, also leaning towards Brace.

„He's a troubled man." he replied honestly, picked up his chopper again and began slicing a piece of meat.

Lorna had taken a stroll by the river. As she returned to the house, she had taken it upon herself to fulfill James's task of transforming the unwelcome guest, a mere child and a raunchy one at that, into a distinguished women just like herself.

After she had succeeded in fighting her to get into the bath and clean herself up she sat her down in front of the dresser in her own bedroom, gently brushing her hair, which had a beautiful sheen to it once it was rinsed.

„Do you have intentions regarding Mr. Delaney?" Rosie bluntly asked out.

Lorna's face reddened. She uncomfortably shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she tried to brush off the abashment.

„Why would I have intentions on Mr. Delaney? He's a savage! No decent women would!" she empathized this with theatrical gestures clearly not being aware of how inconvincible she appears.

Rosie shrugged.

„Why? Do you think he would have intentions on me?"

‚Oh how cunning' Rosie thought to herself smirking into the mirror.

Lorna forged pressuring the subject any further.

In the evening both women sat in the lounge, Rosie watched Lorna closely as she was reading a book to herself. She confessed to her that she had never learned to read, nor write properly as a child as there was always work to be done around the house with her being the second oldest out of five children and her father, having had to raise the children on his own, being away most of the time.

„What about your mother?" Lorna asked, suddenly having sentimental feelings towards the girl.

„Oh she wasn't fit enough to be around. She was brought to London when she was getting worse. That's why I'm here. I have resolved to finding her."

„How tragic!" Lorna said placing her hand on Rosie's cheek.

„Come sit with me. I will teach you to read."

On the third day without a word from James, Rosie began to worry.

„Oh that's what he's like."

Brace failed at trying to reassure her as she would keep on spying out on the road through a narrow gap between the boards baring all the doors and windows.

During the day she sat in the same spot at the windowpane for hours on end, worrying more and more as the time went on.

To distract Rosie from her thoughts and her own growing paranoia Lorna persuaded Rosie to accompany her on her everyday stroll along the river.

Both women slipped into long coats and wrapped woolly scarves around their necks for it has infrequently pelted down all morning and noon.

The harsh wind belted into their faces causing their skin to turn bright red with cold, as they were walking alongside each other holding on firmly to their scarves.

From afar the women could make out a familiar figure hurrying towards them.

As he drew closer a mixture of excitement and relief flooded through her body once Rosie recognized the figure was turning into James.

He reached them only moments later, took ahold of Rosie's wrist and yanked her away from Lorna.

„What were you thinking taking her out here?"

Lorna gave him a baffled look.

„She is not to leave the house!" he instructed sharply, resisting the urge to strike her across the face.

Lorna was lost for words.

„She didn't mean anything by it." Rosie piped up in Lorna's defense.

„Who knows she's here?"

„On..only Brace and I…do." she stammered.

„Let's keep it that way."

Back inside the warmth of the house James has finally taken notice of the changes Rosie had made. He observed her thoroughly making Lorna turn green with envy. She still didn't fully grasp what he saw in her.

„You look different." he pointed out, still beholding her without unveiling any kind of emotion.

„Well so do you." Rosie countered pointing at the bruise above his eyebrow.

„She is different. She looks after herself, she reads and she contains herself at the dinner table." Lorna announced.

„Well she doesn't contain her tongue as of yet." he remarked pouring himself a glass of brandy and putting his feet on the side table.


	4. Feeding him lies

Chapter IV: Feeding him lies

The wind wouldn't cease to thrash against the window frames that night, almost ripping them out of their hinges. Brace was turning over from side to side as he watched the clouds pass by and heavy rain showers pound against the window. He dreaded the thought of the cellar being flooded the next morning and him standing calf-high in cold, dirty river water. The draft had blown out the candle on the bedside table by now and an uneasy thought crept into his head.

It had become like a monster wanting to be fed, but whatever lies and excuses Brace would feed it, it remained voracious. He had kept it locked away at the rearmost space of his mind but in nights like these it would crawl out of the shadows and come knocking on the door. It's sounds would only be subtle but audible enough to keep him awake. The more he tried to ignore them, the more intrusive they would become. And the more he gave into his thoughts, overpowering his will to finally forget, the more troubled he would become, leaving him laying in a patch of his own sweat and tears, never once realizing that the monster had in fact been his own conscience.

It had gotten much worse ever since James had returned home. Though Brace desperately wanted to cling to the gayer memories of the good old days, the events that had lead up to the passing of Mr. Delaney, would overshadow them. And it was Brace himself who had contemplated that final act to withdraw the life of his master, his friend and only family for mercy and kindness as he would later declare to James in an act of self-defense for the truth was too hard to cope with.

Had the body of the late Mr. Delaney been examined carefully, traces of arsenic would have been found in his system. The same arsenic Brace had sneakily blended into his honey beer in a fatal doses. He had stashed the empty vials along with other belongings, which would prove evidence and connect him to the murder, in a trunk beneath his bed. The trunk also contained the deerskin treaty entitling the settled ownership of Nootka Sound, that James had sought after despairingly.

Every day it became harder and harder to face James with the secrets Brace had kept inside. His limbs would tremble at the very sight of him, as Brace knew most assuredly he would never be forgiven for murdering his father in the cowardly manner he had chosen by poisoning him. A way to kill designated for women and women only. And of the many things James was known to loathe, cowardice was certainly one of them.

Brace decided it was time to get rid of the evidence with his own tension rising. He had to be cleared out as a suspect, wanted to ease his mind by yet committing another crime: Betrayal.

In the wee hours of the morning, when everyone was still fast asleep he heaved the trunk down into the cellar, escaping through the hatch the carpenter had forgotten to board up when the windows and doors were barred. He took the boat down the river into town with the intend to pass the evidence onto and forming a pact with Robert Thoyt, the family lawyer, who knowingly had strong ties to the East India Company. He relied on him on transferring the treaty to the East India and therewith the curse that had brought only madness, misery and murder to the family, in order to put an end to the horrors. The East India would burn the treaty, claiming it had never existed, declaring Nootka Sound the property of the royal crown and nobody would even assume that it had ever even been in Brace's possession.

He hammered against the front door ferociously. After minutes of ongoing pounding, which woke the whole neighborhood, a bleary- eyed man, bruised with old age answered the door only wearing a nightgown. He looked surprised at the sight of Brace, assuming the worst. The death of James Delaney.

Brace reassured him that it wasn't the case, not yet at least.

„Then what are you doing here at this time of night." Brace pushed himself through the door, trembling at the thought of the confession he was about to make. He announced his proposition to Thoyt, who at first paralyzed with shock,as he listened to the crude tale Brace had to tell, suddenly took a liking to the plan as it went on, beginning to devise a plot himself.

Thoyt, known for being a man, who never missed an opportunity to squeeze some extra money out of people and with Sir Stuart Strange having plenty of it, he surely wouldn't mind rewarding him with a few shillings for the valuable possession that had suddenly surfaced.

Soaked with sweat and rain, a weary Brace returned home after completing his mission. The sun had already begun to rise as he entered the abandoned front room. With a shaky hand he poured himself a glass of brandy, drowned it in one big gulp, then settled for the bottle instead. Just as he guided the neck to his lips James appeared in the doorframe.

He startled at the sight of him. Instantaneously the feeling of remorse burned in the depth of his stomach, making him slightly nauseous.

„Oh ye can't sleep either?" he said trying to sound as normal as possible.

„Why can't you sleep?" James asked distrustingly.

„Having a pain."

„The knee?" he asked.

„Oh aye, the damn knee."

James eyed him suspiciously but shrugged off the tinge of mistrust. He yanked the bottle from his hand as he was to bring it up to his lips again.

„Don't be greedy."he said, pouring the golden liquid into the glass in Brace's unsteady hand and fetching one for himself.

He sighed and sat down beside Brace clinking his glass.

After minutes of silence, James eyes darted to the floor. A puddle had formed under Brace's feet.

„Why are your boots wet?"

„Wet?" he repeated, looking down on him, his cheeks turning red. „The cellar. I went down there to see how flooded it was with it bucketing down, you know."

„Right." James nodded, drowned his glass and left.


	5. Of tigress and fraud

Chapter V: Of tigresses and fraud

Like a caged predator James paced up and down the attic. Having received a clue from Godders, who had incidentally overheard conspicuous whispers being exchanged between Stuart Strange and Robert Thoyt about the sudden appearance of the Nootka Sound treaty. Where it had surfaced hadn't been said but it was in the lawyers possession, who had begun to negotiate a deal with Sir Strange in exchange for the contract. Goddesrs had ran to the Delaney house straight after, breathlessly telling James everything he had come to know.

James would have to act rapidly in order to prevent the document from being destroyed for all times. He did have an idea but it would all depend on Rosie's stake.

He ushered Rosie into the attic, locking the door to make sure they were not to be disturbed.

„Sit!" he demanded, pulling a chair from the writing desk.

„I now have a use for you." he announced.

James filled her in on his plans on spying on Thoyt and asking her for an odious task. Rosie was outraged by his request.

„What do you think I am? A whore?" she yelled at him offendedly.

„I didn't say fuck him! Lure him, I said"

„No." she mouthed at James, shook her head and rose from the chair. Before she could turn to leave, James had clasped her waist, restraining her in a tight hug.

„I know you can do it. I trust you." he murmured into her ear, knowing she would comply. From his pocket he brought out a diamond and placed it in her hand. She gazed at it in amazement.

„For your effort." he said.

In preparation for her imminent commission, James had given her a precise description of her designation, a fancy house at the other, nicer end of town, and her prey.

James escorted her outside to the coach he had personally called, which would take her to a tailor nearby the living quarters, where Robert Thoyt resided. From thereon she would have to find her way on foot in order to make sure she wasn't watched. He took one last look at her, thoughtfully straightening the collar of the dress, he had picked for her.

„Good luck." he wished as he held the carriage door open for her and helped her step inside.

Hiding in a gloomy alley on the other side of the road, she observed the front door, waiting for a man to leave the house, who fitted the characteristics James had given her. She hadn't had to wait for too long before the old lawyer with disfigured face appeared. She followed him, always making sure to keep her distance. When finally the man decided to pay a visit to the nearby Inn, she was determined to strike.

She reapplied some color to her lips and cheekbones and ran her fingers through her hair to make it look neat. She brushed off her modest black dress, before she entered the tavern with her head held high. She paraded along the crowded room, unobtrusively looking out for Thoyt. When she spotted him she feigned to clumsily jostle into him causing him to spill his Ale all over his vest.

„Oh I'm awfully sorry Sir." she apologized repeatedly, drawing a handkerchief from her décolletage and padding him dry. Now that she had broken the ice, she took a seat at his table and began to casually chatter.

Reluctantly Thoyd engaged in the conversation, despite his increasing suspicion of her intentions. Why would an endearing women like her bother with an old man like him? Well he did have an appeal to women, he conceded. After all he had been a man of status and prosperity, certainly that would make up for the lack of vitality, he reasoned with himself, as she continued to carry out her flirtations. Pushing the impulse of self-doubt aside, Thoyt began to ease into the situation. She told him about a fictitious brother who aspired a medical profession and asked the lawyer about his own. She continued lying to the man about staying with relatively affluent, distant relatives in order to gain his trust, which had proved to be an improvident move, as of course Thoyt then asked her who these affluent relatives were.

„You know, I have always had a fascination with older gentleman." she bluntly confessed in an attempt to maneuver her way out of that delicate situation by veering off.

„May I ask, what an enduring lady like yourself is looking for in such a grim place like this?" he asked, seeking final confirmation, that he wasn't set up for a honey trap.

„Oh I had made arrangements to meet my brother."she stated convincingly, perking her head up and pretending to seek out somebody in the room. „But it looks like he has let me wait in vain." she said as she got up and straightened her skirt, initializing their parting. At that point she had had him already on her hook.

Thoyt quickly picked up on this and offered her to take her into his home and call a coach for her from there as he didn't want her wandering around town on her own after evenfall. She gladly accepted the proposal and linked arms with him as they abandoned the tavern together.

„I rejoice the discretion only privacy can submit. „ Rosie annunciated ambiguously, with a sheepish smile plastered on her face.

„What a lovley home." Rosie complimented him as he lead her through the entrance hall.

To her right side a door was left ajar. „What's in this room?" she asked curiously.

„Only my secretary."

Uninvitedly she opened the door to peer inside. She took in the dreary ambience and began to strut around the room.

„There's a female touch missing." Rosie thought out loud.

„Let me take you into the lounge. It is less formal "he offered.

„Oh but I like it here." Rosie approached the desk like a little tigress and sensually ran her fingertips along the wooden edge of the writing surface.

Open-mouthed, Thoyt watched her in awe, his body lightly quivering with lust and his breathing beginning to quicken.

„Where is the lady of the house?" she asked.

„Dead." he baldly stated.

„I'm sorry to hear." she expressed her condolence and attempted to put words into his mouth. „You must be terribly lonely."

„It get's forlorn." he admitted.

„I have a cure for it." she whispered in a seductive manner, whilst sliding onto the the desk. She pulled up her skirt salaciously, revealing a part of firm, pale skin on her leg. Thoyt interpreted her performance as an invitation and moved in to place a kiss on the soft pillows of her lips.

„But first a drink!"she called out in avoidance of another revolting overture.

„As you wish my lady." Thoyt complied, leaving her to herself to fetch some wine for both of them.

Given the opportunity Rosie took advantage of it and quickly rummaged through the documents orderly assorted on the writing surface of the desk. Not being able to locate what she had been assigned to find, she noticed a drawer but realized it was locked. Quickly her eyes scanned the surroundings for a key, when all of the sudden Thoyt reappeared in the doorframe, holding a glass of red liquid in each hand, he starred at her. His gaze full of rage, as he caught her red-handedly, he slowly placed the fine glassware on the nearby table. Tucked under his shirt he then revealed a leather band with a small key dangling from it, as he approached her.

„Looking for this?" he asked, wickedly smiling at her as he drew it from around his neck and held it in front of her eyes. She reached for it, trying to snatch it out of his hand but he took a few steps back and purposely dropped it on the floor.

„You have tricked me, you fraud" he affronted her, whilst she did exactly what he had expected by bending down to pick it up.

Thoyt then reached over, pressed her down by the head, as he slowly got down on his knees laboriously himself. He forced his full weight upon her in order to restrain the now repelling figure underneath him to the ground, eagerly grasping at the fabric of her dress and ripping the buttons off with impatient fingers. His tongue ran down her neck leaving a wet trace of salvia on her sweaty skin. All the while she tried to free herself, coiling like a snake underneath his rigid body. She reached out her hand as far as she could, tearing down whatever she could grab a hold of on the desk. Several sheets of paper glided to the ground. As he rose his torso to see what had happened, at this very moment of distraction, she kicked herself free, swiftly getting on all fours. Before he pinned her down again she was able to grab a solid brass paperweight within reach.

With all her might she began to struck it across his head several times making a sickening pounding sound, until finally his lifeless body fell upon her with a loud thud. Blood oozed down his face from the open gab in his skullcap, she had caused and quickly covered her. Hot tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, as she tried to catch her breath. When she eventually came to comprehend what she had done, she pushed the motionless corpse off of her and onto the side. Rosie then undid the leather band around his neck with shaky hands and removed the key. Quickly she unlocked the drawer and rummaged through it in the same haste she rummaged around the desk earlier. Sure enough the deerskin treaty, James had told her about was placed under a piece of cloth for protection. She removed it from the drawer and fled the scene rashly.


	6. An unfortunate incident (part I)

Chapter VI: An unfortunate incident (part I)

Looking distraught and slightly delusional, Rosie hammered against the front door panic- stricken, calling out for James, who immediately rushed down the stairs.

„I killed him, I killed him." she cried out in-between sobs.

James placed his hand on her mouth, instructing her to keep it down. He ushered her up the stairs and into the attic, locking the door once again.

„Where?" he asked.

„In his house."

Like a madwomen she stumbled across the room with new crying fits taking over her body.

To ease her nerves James brought up a half-empty bottle of gin to her mouth.

„Drink this, all of it."he demanded.

„Did you get the treaty?" she nodded and pulled it from under her skirt, where she had secured it to her undergarment.

James untied it and scanned it before he locked it safely inside his solid trunk, only he had the key for.

„Did you dispose of the body?" he turned his attention back to the unsettled women, who rocked her body back and forth as she was sitting on a chair.

She shook her head.

James kneeled down to her feet assuring her that he would take care of it.

„Did anybody follow you?" he asked.

„I don't know."

„Now think!" his tone turned harsher.

„No I don't think so."

„Very well. I will take care of it." he repeated, gathering his coat and hat. He pulled the brim deep down into his face to disguise himself. Then he grabbed an old grain sack big enough to tug a body in.

„Get yourself cleaned up, and rinse that blood from your dress. And for gods sake try not to make a stir.!" he ordered just before he unlocked the door.

„What are you going to do?"

„Taking care of it."

Rosie had lost sense of time as she laid in the tub. She had scrubbed the dried blood off her skin with such brutality, she never even noticed the bruises she inflicted on herself, leaving deep scratch marks all over her skin. She stayed in the cold, crimson colored water, starring at a particular spot on the wall, reliving the events that had taken place and coming to terms with what she had done.

She wished she had never even come to London. If she hadn't come to London in the first place she wouldn't have had met James and she wouldn't have joined his league of the damned, for damned she now was.

She contemplated running away. It had been a good chance for James hadn't returned yet and Miss Bow and Brace had already gone to their rooms. She considered her options thoroughly with the sudden desire to travel back home to her father and brothers and sisters, whom she now realized, she deeply missed. But where would she find shelter and was she safe now that she had become a murderess? What if James hadn't taken care of it and her traces could be followed? Surely James would unleash his anger on her if she'd run away and perhaps kill her? She now knew he was capable of it and perhaps even more…

Maybe it was true, what she overheard Lorna tell Brace in secret. She heard people spoke badly of him, spreading rumors of him, killing gruesomely for pleasure and then desecrating the corpses. They said he ate human flesh.

Rosie smiled at those accounts that day, as did Brace, not believing a single word, of course taking into account that they were spoken by Lorna, who was known for her exaggerations.

She had been so naive but now she had fallen into his debt by making the very simple task of stealing turn into murder. And James has had to clean up after her. A debt that can't easily be payed off.

Her recollected memories made Rosie feel nauseous and light-headed. But perhaps it was just the gin kicking in.

Rosie felt the exhaustion in her bones as she climbed out of the tub. She draped herself in cloths and treaded along the corridor into her room. She hung the soaked dress, she had rinsed earlier, on a hook near the fire to let it dry, though she dreaded seeing it and decided to never wear it again.

She crawled into bed, being physically and emotionally strung out but her mind would still wander no matter how much gin she poured down her throat.

After hours of tossing and turning she heard the familiar squeaking of the front door and heavy footsteps ascend the stairs. She knew then James had finally come home.

She waited a few moments pondering over whether or not to speak to him.

But her fear and curiosity had finally gotten the better of her so she slid out of bed, tied the bath cloth around her body again and tiptoed to his room. Hesitatingly she knocked on the door.

„In." he said in a low but audible voice.

She entered the room uneasily. James sat by the fire pulling the dead lawyers blood drained clothing out of the grain sack, he had brought back, and throwing them into the fire piece by piece. He paused at what he was doing to look at the girl with neutral expression. She looked older, he thought. Her lips and eyes swollen and flushed from the salty tears that had been streaming down her face earlier and as a result irritated her skin. Her hair fell sleekly from her shoulders. Her once vibrant green eyes gazed back at him in a dead stare.

For the first time since he had left Zilpha, he felt a sting to his heart, thinking about what he had done to Rosie… . What he had made her become.

„All has been taken care of." he assured her. She nodded in response.

He patted on the floor for her to sit beside him. Slowly she walked over, tightened the cloth around her body and sat down next to him.

He breathed in her fresh scent, now that she was so close to him but even that wouldn't bring back the pureness that once inhered her. It was as if she had lost a piece of soul to him and they both consented an unspoken agreement that night to keep their morbid actions buried inside for the rest of their lives.

They sat silently, watching the crackling fire, mesmerized as it ate away on the goods that it was being fed, as James continued to throw Thoyts belongings into the flames.


End file.
